


Resistance

by afhyer



Series: Back to you [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley is a Mess (Good Omens), Feelings, First Kiss, M/M, POV Alternating, The Night At Crowley's Flat (Good Omens), The Talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:27:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24855346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afhyer/pseuds/afhyer
Summary: Aziraphale has lost everything and Crowley has lived the worst day of his life, now they have to face what is coming from their respective ex-bosses but to do so they must first make things clear. In the absence of Aziraphale, Crowley discovered the reason why he is different from other demons and for his part Aziraphale emerges from his own fears at the moment that his friend needs him most.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Back to you [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1798201
Comments: 13
Kudos: 50





	Resistance

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first solo fanfiction in the fandom, I had this idea stuck in my head since i finish the series one year ago and is the obligatory "the night before they switch" fic. I love them so much and I just want then to be happy. English is not my native language so maybe a few mistakes are on the way. 
> 
> The title is from the song by muse "Resistance" that song for me is a conversation between Crowley and Aziraphale in that night.

It was over.

Or at least that part of the day was

Crowley isn’t certain that they are still on the same day as the moment when everything started, and by  _ everything _ he means the end of the world: the rise of the seas, the destruction of humankind, the rage of the Antichrist being released upon Earth, the death of his best friend... 

Except, none of that really happened. Once more the world was finishing its customary rotation of 24 hours - more or less -, not ending. creatures of the sea were doing their swimming rounds, or whatever the creatures of the sea should normally be doing - not being caught by hungry humans for traffic that’s for sure, and the aforementioned humans were probably sleeping or just living their lives, oblivious of everything that happened. At least in the England, where he was right now. 

The Antichrist wasn’t much of unleashing rage against everything, and more of the kind that wanted to go to play with his dog and be left alone, and that was perfect for Crowley to be honest... and his best friend was just sitting next to him, thigh to thigh, shoulder to shoulder, breathing the same air - a matter of habit more than a necessity - smelling the weird odours coming from inside the bus going through Oxfordshire at the moment... 

_ Wait- _ that part was just him. 

He’s disgustingly covered in soot and dirt, but his best friend is here, right beside him even when just moments ago he wasn’t…. 

How can all that had happened in the same day? Maybe God was playing dice with time as well...

* * *

It was over.

They were holding hands on the bus. Aziraphale not only took the firm decision to sit in the same place as Crowley but he also had held Crowley's hand while doing so, leaving it there without moving an inch all the way 'till Mayfair. 

That was something brave in Aziraphale’s books, blood rushing through his ears while his fingers were starting to catalogue every feeling of that bony hand, the strength of muscles and tendons, the way it contracted itself at the contact with Aziraphale’s without relaxing. Not yet. 

The slow contagious heat from Crowley’s hand to his, the general feeling of being where it belonged... 

_ why there is so much meaning in hand holding?  _

He may never know. 

He’d read about it thousands and thousands of times in different stories of star-crossed lovers-- but to feel it with this intensity? He didn’t have an answer and just the question on repeat in his head while his heart beat fast, but he did not move it and neither did Crowley

As the bus continued it’s not default route to London, Crowley started dozing off and his head ended up in Aziraphale’s left shoulder, as if it was something they regularly did.

_ We don't. _

_ H _ is mind started a new file cataloguing the pressing of the head on his shoulder and the tickling of Crowley’s hair on his jaw and neck. And the smell,  _ awful to be honest _ , burn and charred all the same and, just at the bottom of it, the brimstone that was only Crowley, intrinsically familiar as his very own. 

The angel smelled Crowley's hair so easily in that position...it wasn’t something new, he usually caught Crowley´s smell every time they got close for whatever reason.

The smell that was made for humans to retreat when close, to turn around, that should activate the amygdala and the flight or fight instinct like a warning sign. But for Aziraphale that smell felt like home, like calm and peace and menace at the same time. This was  _ his demon _ , no reason to turn around or escape and all the reasons to take his nose to Crowley's hair and inhale. He closed his eyes and put pressure on the hand holding Crowley's and if Crowley noticed it was beyond him to know, with the burden of the day wearing still in his body.

This sudden closeness was almost too much for him and yet, not enough.

Crowley just lay his head there, maybe it was something intentional, maybe just the exhaustion from the day,  _ it has been really just a day?,  _ keeping the Bentley “alive” while it was burning, to halt time itself just so they can give the little Antichrist a pep talk and per se stopping Armageddon. 

Even after all that Crowley tried to comfort him, to give him a place to stay. 

Aziraphale looked at the sleeping demon on his shoulder and the wetness in his own cheek was evident. 

_ I don’t want to lose you. _

And the only thing he could do was to hold Crowley's hand and concentrate his train of thoughts in that sensation right there.

* * *

Crowley’s just so tired, not only for the day. He’s losing a fight with something inside him, something pulling at the ugly side trying to convince him that it isn´t over, that he has lost everything that day and the rest is just Hell inside him making a joke. 

Maybe’s all that and Crowley just does what he does best, ignore it while he can, shut it out and put it behind him and just go to sleep. So, he starts dozing off until his head’s over Aziraphale´s shoulder and that smell, like a lighter version of Easter lilies and ozone lingering in the air, not more burned bookshop or Bentley, just Aziraphale. 

P _ lease _ , he prays to no one. 

Crowley is not thinking too much or perhaps he is thinking in everything at once, between the contact of the clothed bodies, the warmth in his hand, the ticklish of the damn bowtie in his face that doesn’t seem to know the passage of time. Time. 

H _ ow much time do we have? _

They've had 6000 years in and out of a shared existence, but now? the unknown of the future starts to make roots in Crowley´s chest and it’s really heavy, making it hard to breath. Again, force of habit more than a necessity.

_ What will happen to us? will _ Aziraphale  _ be ok? _

He’s still praying but no one listens... 

They step out of the bus still holding hands.

* * *

The building where Crowley lived was huge. Aziraphale wasn't aware of it until he was outside the lift door waiting for it to come down to the ground floor, Maybe it took only a minute but the angel wasn't paying attention, not really, not when his hand was still in Crowley’s and he felt like the world around them was spinning and his only anchor was that hand, not soft, not tender, he could even feel in his own skin the fragments of dirt that found dwelling in the palm of Crowley’s hand earlier that same day.

_ Such an odd sensation. _

The lift came to a halt with a ding that vibrated on Aziraphale’s ears making him look up and then at the face of the demon. 

Crowley didn't say a word since they got on the bus, not a single sound in the journey and not even a complain when they got off the bus and he almost tripped on a puddle outside the building and if it hadn't been for the grip of their hands it would probably have been quite an embarrassing show. 

Aziraphale didn’t know what Crowley was thinking and he was afraid to ask because all his energy and will was contained on the difficult task of not letting go of Crowley’s hand no matter what. That hand is his everything at the moment.

_ No bookshop, no heaven. _

Aziraphale directed his attention to count the lines around their joined hands, the hills and valleys of the muscles that composed it. 

_ I don’t know if I’ll ever be this close to you again. _

They stepped on the lift, Crowley first and Aziraphale just followed without letting go of the hand, unconsciously increasing the pressure of the grip and for a moment he felt that Crowley had also increased the pressure but it was almost imperceptible.

...  _ maybe it's just me doing it for the both of us, maybe…  _

He suddenly stopped thinking, stopped staring at their joined hands and opened his eyes completely, looked up to see Crowley’s face, who was currently with his eyes closed and his face directed at the lift door like waiting for it to open at any time but… 

_ is he? _

* * *

Why is Aziraphale still holding his hand? 

_ He must be afraid; he lost a lot today… I lost a lot today.  _

The lift goes up tortuously slow, of course he could miracle them inside the flat with a snap but he is so damn tired that even walking seems like a big deal and Aziraphale doesn't let go of his hand... 

_ why?  _

That's the question pounding in his head and he is trying his best at resisting the urge to turn around and look at those blue eyes searching for an answer, that is taking the most of his effort.

_ He is here _

Crowley’s breathing starts to become quicker. 

_ Why? _

And the increased pressure of the grip on his hand becomes something impossible to ignore..

Crowley’s whole body is aware of that slight change and the sensation that moves from his hand to the rest of his skin, and he closes his eyes. 

_ Let us stay just like this, please. _

Unconsciously his own thumb begins to draw circular patterns, stroking slowly and tenderly Aziraphale's hand, the rhythm of his own breathing begins to calm with each movement. Feeling the skin of the angel's hand at his fingertip helps him focus, to rely on the fact that the angel is next to him in this reality and a loud sigh escapes from his lungs, even if his body is not strictly human and doesn't need it, he does, his chest needs an escape from the constriction that is building inside him. 

He does not dare to even look at Aziraphale, the one who only a few hours ago had disappeared from his world because he knows that if he dares to look at him he would have to deal with those feelings and it is something he cannot do at this precise moment.

_ Breathe _ ,  _ ozone and lilies, him _ ,  _ next to me, it is not an illusion  _

He tries to hold onto that while letting the feel of Aziraphale’s hand and its warmth spread through his own. __

_ Oh, please have mercy on me. _

* * *

The lift comes to a halt and the doors are now open and is Aziraphale who starts moving, Crowley hasn't opened his eyes yet, so he exits the elevator first, leading Crowley behind him, one step at a time. 

The doors of Crowley’s flat are open as if its owner was removing the wards and locks that kept them closed.

Stepping into the foyer Aziraphale feels that Crowley suddenly stops, forcing himself to look behind him to see the cause of the problem, realizing that he cannot see Crowley's face, Crowley has not yet entered the flat and his eyes are covered by his sunglasses, Aziraphale cannot see his eyes.

_ I need to see you  _

“There is… ah, there is holy water and demonic goo on the floor… Ligur, he is, was, I used the holy water, sorry, just… didn't have time to clean it, didn't think I would be coming back I… sorry, I kept your thermos.”

Aziraphale almost feels sorry for Crowley because he is rambling at this point without letting a perceivable pause between his words, Aziraphale can feel the fear in his broken voice so he just squeezes the hand holding Crowley's to reassure him and the demon stops talking.

“It’s ok, I can take care of the holy and you can take care of the unholy. Breath, dear”

“Don't need to,” he says trying to sound normal and it comes almost as a whimper.

“Dearest.” 

Crowley snaps his fingers at the same time as Aziraphale’s and the smell of the flat returns to his normal, the mix of night-blooming jasmine, lemon balm and sandalwood, reflecting some of the plants that Crowley keeps in his flat. 

_ Always the carer.  _

It’s not the first time Aziraphale is at this flat, he had been here before on nights waiting for Crowley to be ready for the next play in the Mayfair theatre, or to return something that Crowley has forgotten in his bookshop the day before. 

Even if his visits do not last more than a few minutes, one hour maximum, each visit has served to get to know small details within the place, so different from his bookshop, so different from Crowley himself .

Crowley has started moving inside the flat towards the kitchen and makes an attempt to release Aziraphale's hand.

He is not going to let him, so brings his other hand to the union and now both of his hands are holding Crowley's right between them, he is not going to let go, not now.

_ Please God, have mercy. _

* * *

He knows he is losing his mind but he is not going down without a fight, he will be the anchor that Aziraphale needs right now, the angel doesn't need an scared and confused demon at his side, not this night, not this moment, he needs the demon who has saved him countless of times before, right? 

Aziraphale always looks at him when things are difficult so of course, Aziraphale trusts him and his power to fix things. That's why earlier at the airbase in Tadfield he asked him to do something even if it felt impossible and he just compiled at his demand 

_ That’s what I am good at. _

He breaths in and out again and he tries to go to the kitchen with the angel at his back..

He tries to speak in his usual tone, it’s a day like any other, a night like any other, the same routine. It is not the last day of their lives. 

_ It could be  _

Breath in breath out.

“So, angel, what are you in the mood for? we have a long night ahead of us, I got a Romanée Conti from my last trip to Burgundy that can be sacrificed for this occasion,” Crowley says, “better the wine than us” 

He tries to joke, really, what else can he do? he is trying to buy time, to get the gears in his mind work on making something up. 

That imagination of his is failing miserably, leaving him alone so he resorts to his sense of humour and starts to walk away only for his right hand to be grabbed strongly by the two angelic ones, and with a pressure beyond human capacity. The warmth from the angel’s skin is almost unbearable if it wasn't exactly what he is starving for. 

He can’t speak.

His non-human heart is hurting.

He wants to turn around

“Dear...” he hears

He doesn't know what to say, he still doesn't have the solution for what's to come, heaven and hell won't rest easy seeing their doomed plans ruined and Crowley still has no idea how to get around this situation. 

What can he say to the angel? He must be waiting for the fix to this and Crowley doesn't have it yet. He needs more time.

_ Please, have mercy on me, I am trying, I will not disappoint you. _

“I can feel your eyes on the back of my head, Aziraphale.” His voice is almost inaudible.

“Crowley…”

“Don’t, I'll do it, let me finish thinking, I'll fix it, just… have a seat and it'll be ok, don't need to be afraid, angel, just let me…” he says in a rush of air, with the need to stop the worry that is currently gnawing at his insides.

He is stopped not by his own rambling but by the arms that suddenly surround his waist holding him tightly. 

Aziraphale clings to his back and the heat that takes over his own skin is a temperature that his brain cannot control or catalogue, has lost its purpose of setting the alarms meaning for fight or flee.

“ _ Aziraphale _ …” 

It’s barely a whisper.

* * *

Suddenly it’s not enough, holding Crowley's hand in his it’s not enough, and Aziraphale can sense the fear and despair coming out of Crowley at that moment, he can feel the tremor in his right hand between his and suddenly it is not enough for neither of them. .

Aziraphale wants to be strong, wants to be something he is not normally good at. 

He is always soft, always weak, following orders and looking for ways of how to get away with his whims without receiving a divine reprimand but not really disobeying.

Crowley has always been there for taking the initiative, the one with the ideas and easy solutions, who bears the burden for them both.

It was always a good plan, if at any time heaven confronted him due to his slips, Aziraphale would have the perfect excuse, everything could be classified as a long-lasting temptation from the demon towards his own being, hardly his fault.

He cannot take it anymore, he needs to try and stand up on his own two feet even if the conversation won't come easily. It’s not late, he can do it. So he releases Crowley’s hand just to step forward and wrap his arms around the demon’s waist literally crashing at his back with no plan ahead, just the need of having a fixed point between the mess around them. 

He hears and feel the intake of air from Crowley and the tiny gasp at the sudden contact.

“What… Aziraphale what are you doing?” Crowley says too quietly for the situation.

“It’s… it’is a hug, I believe, humans-- they do it all the time with… ah, with the people they care about, I don’t know much about that but --- I read that, well, that hugs and… touch significantly reduce worrying of mortality --- even if it was just an inanimate object it --- it helps soothe individuals existential fears and --”

“So, you think I'm scared and you’re looking for a way to calm me down --- using human methods?”

Aziraphale doesn't let go, he doesn't know what he is trying to do, has zero expertise in this area but he needs it, he needs the comfort as a human would.

He can pretend that it’s for Crowley but while he tightened his grip, he knows in every fibre of his being that this is entirely for himself.

He closes his eyes with his face burrowed in Crowley’s back, he breaths the soot and the dirt on the demon's cloths but he couldn't care less 

_ Let me stay like this I can't do anything else _

“I ... Crowley our bodies are human in most ways so it makes sense, hugs help to release Oxytocin, that is a chemical in our bodies and it reduces stress, they found that, the scientists people,” he says, his voice, wobbly and not consistent with the point he is trying to explain.

* * *

He feels like he is going to cry

_ Why? _

_ Why? _

_ What is he talking about?  _

He tries to listen, really tries but the buzzing in his head is to loud _ chemicals and human comfort… what in heavens?  _

A hug.

Crowley has never been hugged before and until two minutes ago. 

He also could swear that Aziraphale hasn’t done it either but the evidence at his waist says that the angel knew what this was all about… he is so bloody tired and cannot deny what the contact is making to his insides.

He hears a sob… unsure if it's him or Aziraphale at his back

He lifts a hand at his cheek feeling the sudden wetness on it  _ oh… is me then…  _

Silence

Aziraphale stops talking 

He stops breathing

And the world stops spinning dreadfully around them and Crowley can’t hold it anymore, so he speaks in a thick voice while he puts both hands over Aziraphale's that tighten on his waist as if his life depended on it.

"I couldn't find you anywhere. 6000 years and I always could sssense you, even when I was in hell you were like a tingle at the back of my mind. It was a constant reminder that you existed and even in the worst of my days, yearsss, centuries would pass, and you would be there at the other side of everything bad.... But I couldn't, thisss time I couldn't, Aziraphale” 

He is hissing and still sobbing while speaking, Aziraphale is quiet so he continues.

It's now or never, he doesn't know what is gonna happen to them, so he is face with two options, he can either carry his secrets to his literal end of existence or do this.

“I didn't know what my mind was without your presence, Aziraphale, it'sss not a beautiful place, let me tell you..." he smiles wryly

“Crowley, turn around please”

“No, I can´t, let me explain, please, I didn't know back then, I didn’t know, every moment that I didn't say or do something about… us it was ok because you were there even if not physically, you were there as part of my own self and I didn’t knew, in my highest high and in my lowest low, that's why I could carry on through death and despair, through hell and madness, it was better than nothing, I have so much more than any other demon...."

“I am here, Crowley…”

“But you weren't there! not in that moment!” He tries to release himself from Aziraphale’s grip in that moment while he is almost screaming

“You were gone! Suddenly. I lost you, somebody killed you and my mind shattered without your presence to help holding it together, Aziraphale, in that moment I understood why all the other demons start to rot and decay… it’s the hope, I had hope and then I didn't and my skin started to blister”

Now Aziraphale stays silent and his grip has lost a bit of strength. 

* * *

Aziraphale does not know what to answer, there are too many things at once to process. 

The fact that Crowley’s form could fully pass as human without any sign of decaying as all the other demons has being an unanswered question from millennia ago, but he had never given importance to.

_ It’s because of me, how? _

Aziraphale thinks of all those times he has been able to feel Crowley even without being in proximity, when he returned from a mission to his flat on Mayfair and his own mind lit up while reading a book quietly in his bookshop with the unprecedented feeling.

He had never associated that feeling of familiarity and sudden ease with Crowley's presence. Maybe it was a side effect of their continued friendship, it is something that has been cultivated for 6000 years and not recently.

Crowley has always been for him and all the same he has always been there for Crowley, since the first days when the fallen angel was just expelled from heaven and assigned with the most important temptation of humanity, in the garden. 

“Crowley, turn around, please”

Crowley radiates anger and despair in the tone of his voice because Aziraphale was gone and that's something he can understand.

Aziraphale tries to think what his own mind would be without the delicate silk-y feeling that is Crowley constant presence on it, without it he would be left with all his worries, guilt and disappointment, the worst version of himself and a reminder of just how bad an angel he is.

He doesn’t want to feel that way but Crowley has, and Crowley thought that feeling was final, nothing else, forever.

_ My poor demon.  _

Only up to that moment Aziraphale realizes it 

It is not exactly something that he can put into words but he must try, he must hold onto the trust that Crowley has placed in him, even with his defects and bad qualities, Crowley has always look over those and has offered himself for the sake of his well being and comfort, he must explain, he must make Crowley understand it.

Aziraphale slowly let go of Crowley, he needs to explain, Crowley cannot --- not without knowing it too.

“Crowley, turn around, please”

Crowley stands with his back to him with and his hands covering his face.

“It hurts to see you're alright when I'm not alright, I feel like I'm just wasting time before you pull the trigger, I know you are afraid but please—please Aziraphale, choose your words carefully I— I am trying and I’ll fix it“ Crowley says in a defeated tone

And Aziraphale knows that feeling too well

And he needs to let him know now

“I am not afraid, Crowley” 

Aziraphale says while moving to the front of the demon touching the hands covering his face softly, Crowley nods and lets Aziraphale remove his hands and sunglasses.

“What then?” Crowley’s voice is tiny

“I had so many reasons to be afraid but-- dear, not anymore, I guess hugging really is the experience they talk about so much even if I didn’t feel the  _ oxitocines _ doing anything special to be honest” 

He smiles and Crowley had his eyes closed but his lips curls a little upwards at the comment. 

“That’s not how it works, Angel” 

“I don’t know, but now because the fears are gone, all I hear are the words that I needed to say, tell me, dear, is there something I could've said to make your heart beat better?”

Aziraphale place his right hand over the place where Crowley’s heart should be. Beating without a logical need. 

“I just need you here, you are—you, breathing, I, just stay, don’t go where I can’t follow” 

Aziraphale brings his other hand to Crowley's face feeling his wet cheek and can only sigh.

Crowley responds to the touch by pressing his cheek on his hand and suddenly Aziraphale has Crowley’s head on his shoulder and that auburn hair full of ash and grime pressing and tickling his neck.

“I am just so tired” Crowley mumbles

“I can feel you too, you know?”

“Mmm?”

“In my mind, I have always been able to feel you too, I thought it was something very useful when it came to have to thwart your wiles, knowing where you were” 

Aziraphale says while stroking softly Crowley’s hair and just feeling the soft breathing in his neck 

“I thought it was something predetermined and fine-tuned by the fact of sharing so much time in the same place. I had not thought about it in any other way but-- you also feel me, in this head of yours, so that’s how you have known where I am and when I am in danger, not very useful for a demon I guess”

“I am lousy as a demon, you know it” 

Aziraphale can’t help but let a sneer out 

“Yes, I know darling”

“What is your point, again?”

“I am here Crowley” He says reassuringly still stroking Crowley’s hair and cleaning all of him with a little miracle

“you say that now”

“Crowley, hug me, please?” Is a whisper

* * *

Maybe he died. What other reason could explain the fact that he is using Aziraphale as his personal headrest? Crowley doesn’t have any other explanation to it

The only contradiction that Crowley can find is that he is able to feel the softness of Aziraphale while he is stroking his hair and gets rid of the foul smell on it.

The only contradiction is that this feels divine, sacred and if he were indeed dead his torture would be different and not this cosy place.

And then the Angel is asking what, a hug?

This could go from divine to cruel at any moment, from being so close to what he has always wanted and losing it in a second, engulfed in flames and the smell of burned books enveloping him again. 

He resists the urge to cry. Maybe he did die. He has to answer either way

_ He is here, in your flat, he is safe now, you keep him safe now _

“You want—so, you want more oxitocines then? discover the use of brain chemicals as the humans do and let the angel begin to crave for it” His voice is trembling

“Yes, and not, I—Crowley I want to hug you”

“You already did, a moment ago, from the back, just now—” he is trying to sound normal but failing

“You are infuriating! just—can you just do it?”

_ He can’t take it anymore _

He lifts his head from Aziraphale’s shoulder feeling sorry for losing the soft touch of having the angel stroking his hair but he can’t take it anymore, he can’t let Aziraphale continue with this nonsense, beyond his own desires… he needs Aziraphale to survive and if he continues this way… he is gonna lose him again

“Aziraphale, don’t, whatever you think you are doing, please, stop”

“Why?”

“Becaussse you should stop!”

Against everything Crowley wants right now, what his mind and soul really needs, he can only think of how risky it is to be this close, with heaven and hell behind them.

Perhaps offering the angel to stay with him was a mistake.

“Crowley, I am not scared anymore, I will only stop if you really want to”

_ Great time to stop being afraid, damn it. _

“That's the problem, Aziraphale, I don’t want you to stop—but you should, you should! you're the one with the most to lose between both of us. You are risking too much, I don’t- I can’t- look—I already lose so much, I can’t risk losing you, not again—I wouldn’t survive, please” he says almost out of breath.

Crowley just opens his eyes, revealing his fully dilated pupils, fixes his eyes on those silvery blues of Aziraphale

“I'm tired of being so exhausted” exhales Crowley

He can feel Aziraphale’s hands taking his face, forcing his breath to stop at his throat, unable to breathe or blink, it all boils down to the warmth of Aziraphale's hands on his cold cheeks from the shed tears.

“Crowley, I’ve been denying myself for so long— I can understand your fear, if only I could hold you, you'd keep my head from going under, our own side, remember?”

Crowley can only nod, doing his best effort to not cling to the angel and start sobbing again

“I can’t help it”

_ Lousy demon indeed _

“Crowley, I don't want you to face hell on your own without knowing—without being convince that you are love, I know you think you don’t deserve to be loved because you are a fallen angel but I do, I love you, Crowley and if this is our last moments on this earth you should know it, you deserve so much more, dearest, don’t think less of yourself for a moment, you show me that” 

Crowley does not know what to do with his hands, he places them at his sides and then he takes them to the hands that are on his cheeks, withdrawing them slowly from it, he closes his eyes 

“I know I have no right to love you when I chose to walk away but I do”

"- ssstupid angel".

“What?” Aziraphale says shocked by the unusual respond. 

“I know that you love me! I am not blind, you’ve been always ogling at me with those loving eyes and talking to me in that particular way like I was a delicate treasure or the next best course on the menu, I know! That’s why--- aaaargh, damnit” 

He feels himself getting so frustrated by not being able to put the things he wants to say exactly in words. 

He stops talking for a moment to look at Aziraphale who has his mouth open and hasn't blinked since he started talking.

_ go big or go home they say _

“That's exactly the reason I can’t risk it! I need to find a way around this mess so I can keep you safe, is the only thing I can do at this moment, if I have to confront hell I need you safe, you put your love on me and I don’t deserve it”

Crowley feels aziraphale lay his head on his chest avoiding looking him in the eye. 

_ Maybe this is to fast for him _

“But I won’t be safe, if I am not with you, I won’t be safe, look what happen to you when I disappeared, the same thing will happen to me, that will destroy me even without killing me”

Crowley stares at Aziraphale, weighing every word the angel has just said and finding no doubt or falsehood in them, he lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding

“Ngk, I hate that you are right, I need to find a way to keep us both alive and well”

“Crow—Crowley? That means that—that?” Aziraphale is looking him straight in the eye.

“What?” he says dryly as he puts his hands in his pocket as if that could protect him from continuing this line of conversation.

“That means that—you love me too” Aziraphale begins to smile proudly.

“For someone’s sake! Angel! 6000 years and do you think that I would keep looking for you at each turn of the century, with your magic tricks, your old clothes, your boring books, your inability to update yourself to the times-- 6000 years and you think that all that is just the grace and work of the holy spirit?” 

He can see Aziraphale that keeps smiling and must look to another side on the flat, away from those angelic eyes.

“Of course, I fucking love you, there is no other explanation for me being so annoyed by you all the time!”

And without being able to avoid it, he lets out a great sigh that carries with him the weight of all those years, Crowley brings his hands around Aziraphale hugging him as tightly as possible. 

“Of course I love you till the end of times”

* * *

Aziraphale cannot stop smiling, it is impossible at the moment. He knows that he should be worried about a thousand things, there is so much to do and so many things to clarify but having been able to say the words that were trapped in his chest for so long has given him a freedom he never thought he could have.

“So you love me.”

“Shut-up”

“Not a very good quality for a demon, I must say.” He is now just making fun of Crowley, what else can he do? He feels so happy.

“No, obviously no.” 

“Crowley, look at me.”

“Whaat?” 

“I love you.” 

“I know.” Crowley sounds annoyed

_ You are so beautiful _

“You are ok with that then? Not shocked or anything”

“Arrrg, you are gonna make me say it, right?” 

The answer would be yes, for Crowley it is not a surprise but for Aziraphale it is, 

Aziraphale, who until a few minutes ago thought that demons could not love, not as God had intended for all angels at the beginning of time, Aziraphale who always thought that this ability had been removed the moment the fallen angels lost her grace. 

Aziraphale wants to know more about it. 

_ Why me? Why Crowley? _

_ “Please.” _ Aziraphale knows that Crowley can’t stop himself if he asks for things nicely. 

Crowley takes Aziraphale by the shoulders and with a snap of his fingers makes them appear on the sofa in his flat sitting opposite to each other with his legs crossed under them. 

“I was getting really tired of being standing.”

“Of course you were, dear, you were saying?” Aziraphale is teasing now

“I know I love you since, well, I came to the realization almost--- yes, 6000 years ago, no wonder how I am ok with that!” 

“Oh you that’s just impossible, Crowley” 

“For you, maybe! You are a creature of love so it must be natural for you, you even tried to dismiss your feelings for me like I was any other part of the creation that you should love!” 

"How do you even know that?" Aziraphale tries to sound offended however he knows it is totally true.

“6000 years, I bloody know you better than myself, or yourself for that matter”

Aziraphale only feels the heat on his cheeks for being so known. 

_ It really was that obvious, uh? _

“So?”

“So! Ngk, I knew I was different from other demons because instead of feeling anger, pity, lust, well—sometimes—not going there right now, but feelings of revenge, death and destruction, I didn’t feel that at all, while all the other demons at the bottom of hell were full of all that, I didn't feel it, not really, I just wanted to go with a certain pretty angel and see his soft white hair while he was trying some new culinary delight and hear him talk about what humans would have invented, I knew those were not proper things for a demon”

“And… I was that Angel?” 

Aziraphale knows it well, he is not stupid but for a moment he wants Crowley to tell him things as clearly as possible, he is so used to not being praised or not being someone's first choice , he needs to convince himself that it's in fact him, it's important, that he is a big reason on why Crowley is not a  _ proper _ demon.

“Not, it was the fucking archangel Gabriel! of course it was you, you blasted idiot, that was the worst part of it!”

Aziraphale smiles because he really is a bit of a bastard and making Crowley angry is something that reminds him that everything is fine and that they are still friends, in their own side.

“Look, I was not happy when I realized that, I went and drank my weight in alcohol! I was feeling all that love,  _ romantical _ love for my supposed enemy! It was the worse, Yuk, disgusting” 

Crowley makes a face that Aziraphale can't help but laugh at.

“Oh yeah keep laughing about it! I thought it was a punishment from god Herself! At first, I despised it, didn’t want to know anything about it but… I had a long long, really long time to get used to it and accept it as part of who I am, the serpent of Eden that is stupidly in love with the angel of the eastern gate, I—”

Aziraphale can no longer listen to him, his hands burn with the need to touch him, to make him feel that it is the best gift the universe has been able to give him, not a divine punishment, not torture. Everything is part of the ineffable plan, it's the only explanation, it's the only reason why the two of them are so different from everyone in their respective sides and so like each other.

Aziraphale tilts his head to the front and lets his lips settle to Crowley's, suddenly quieting it, it feels like a small burning touch, like when the spoon gets too hot to his mouth and at the same time it feels tentatively soft.

Aziraphale has never done this, but he wants it, he needs it, he needs to demonstrate beyond words how happy this stubborn demon has just made him, the same one that has given him so many problems in the course of his existence.

So, he kisses him, he doesn’t know how but he kisses him, he wants to taste him and share this with him all the same so he licks at his lips and bite them and their teeth crash into each other and they are laughing about it because there is nothing to compare and is the best thing they ever had. 

Aziraphale can hear a sob and when he opens his eyes, he sees Crowley with his eyes closed and tears on the corners of his eyes, contrary to this his mouth has a big smile, Aziraphale smiles equally and places his forehead on Crowley’s.

“Hug me, please?” He says again

And Crowley this time complies without any remark. 

* * *

Crowley has spoken more in these last hours than in the last 100 years. He feels exhausted, tired and without a coherent way of thinking, mainly because he continues to embrace an angel who, probably does not know, is shining with his own light. That part of his mind that is connected with Aziraphale existence is more alive than ever.

_ That’s it! _

“Choose your faces wisely!”

“What now?”

“Agnes! The old witch, she told us!”

“I am not following you, dear.”

“Stop hugging me and pay attention, or just pay attention and stay there!”

Aziraphale looks up to see Crowley’s face. 

“Look, you have changed me through the years—stop looking me like that! I am not being cheesy here, is reality, and I’ve changed you, we are not just an angel and a demon, we are us, I have a part of you in me and you have a part of me in you, who knows where our limits lie and we won't discover 'til we push it!” Crowley is grinning.

“I think you are right.” Aziraphale´s eyes look bigger than ever.

“Of course, I am! If something humans have taught us, it is that everything evolves to adapt to the needs of the environment. That is us, we evolved, we can use that connection in our favour and each one go in the place of the other, nobody will notice, you and I share the same aura! It would be like a possession but using your own place on my head! Ha!”

“It could work!”

“We don’t have to disappear, any of us.” 

“You keep me safe, Crowley”

“And you me, Angel” 

“Is—ineffable” 

“No, no, no, don’t give this to her, I refuse, I totally refuse, you can’t, it was my idea.”

“Agnes knew, before you”

“I hate you.” 

“No, you don’t.” 

Crowley just smiles in defeat and pulls Aziraphale into a tighter embrace

“No, I don’t” 

**Author's Note:**

> That's it, that was my version of the night in Crowley's flat and why they can switch corporations or why Crowley doesn't decay as the other demons.
> 
> I hope you had enjoy it, I really enjoy writing it, please leave a comment if you did.  
> You can find me on my main https://afhyer.tumblr.com/


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